[More than anything, Quentin seems to remind Koby again and again how much braver he is than he believes. The urge to bolt and hide, to curl up under the covers until this horrible game is over, to ignore the world and every hurtful, messy, complicated person in it is strong – but find the right thing to say, find that spark and he flares up like lightning in a bottle, like fire in the sky. The right thing is still, always someone else – fighting for himself is a skill Koby hasn’t quite learned yet.
But this, this he’ll fight for. The familiar shimmer of gold, the curl of electric blue, the hands slipping up over his thighs, his sides, beneath the oversized shirt Koby wears to bed nearly every night – especially now, in the midst of so, so much danger, wrapping himself in Quentin’s scent and presence even more so now that his haki is blocked. He’s so used to seeing the flicker of blue, the shimmer of it, that he needs to –
It hits, then: his haki is blocked. There’s been a blankness like a brick wall since the game started, one that Koby’s tried again and again to muscle through, to no effect. He’s mused that it’s like being blindfolded, like having his ears covered, like being underwater, unable to sense something that’s become so fundamental. Yet there: the bright blue he’s come to associate with Quentin, the aura he’s used to reaching out and feeling, like a tether, like an anchor. He shouldn’t be able to see it, now.
Unless it’s not just Quentin’s aura. Unless this is something else, something that pulses and burns and throbs with vibrancy and life, something that paints every inch of Koby’s exhausted, heartsick body in cerulean, like the sea, like the sky. His breath catches, and he leans back, lifting his hands, seeing how the bright, shimmering warmth is there, laid over his body like a second skin, glowing in the dark. For the first time in weeks, there’s no strain or fear or grief knotting his shoulders, furrowing his brow.
Instead, Koby just looks – enchanted, mouth curving in a wide, delighted grin, turning his hands over and back, tracing the magic (it has to be, it has to be, he hadn’t known it could be, but he knows it now) covering his skin, up his arms, over his collarbone, finally looking down at Quentin with a breathless, stunned laugh.]
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But this, this he’ll fight for. The familiar shimmer of gold, the curl of electric blue, the hands slipping up over his thighs, his sides, beneath the oversized shirt Koby wears to bed nearly every night – especially now, in the midst of so, so much danger, wrapping himself in Quentin’s scent and presence even more so now that his haki is blocked. He’s so used to seeing the flicker of blue, the shimmer of it, that he needs to –
It hits, then: his haki is blocked. There’s been a blankness like a brick wall since the game started, one that Koby’s tried again and again to muscle through, to no effect. He’s mused that it’s like being blindfolded, like having his ears covered, like being underwater, unable to sense something that’s become so fundamental. Yet there: the bright blue he’s come to associate with Quentin, the aura he’s used to reaching out and feeling, like a tether, like an anchor. He shouldn’t be able to see it, now.
Unless it’s not just Quentin’s aura. Unless this is something else, something that pulses and burns and throbs with vibrancy and life, something that paints every inch of Koby’s exhausted, heartsick body in cerulean, like the sea, like the sky. His breath catches, and he leans back, lifting his hands, seeing how the bright, shimmering warmth is there, laid over his body like a second skin, glowing in the dark. For the first time in weeks, there’s no strain or fear or grief knotting his shoulders, furrowing his brow.
Instead, Koby just looks – enchanted, mouth curving in a wide, delighted grin, turning his hands over and back, tracing the magic (it has to be, it has to be, he hadn’t known it could be, but he knows it now) covering his skin, up his arms, over his collarbone, finally looking down at Quentin with a breathless, stunned laugh.]
This – are you? Doing this? You are, aren’t you?